+1/2 -- Indie pop band indulges their love of `60s film scor
hyperbolium | Earth, USA | 09/18/2009
(4 out of 5 stars)
"Anyone who's heard the Postmarks previous two albums will remember how Tim Yehezkely's breathy vocals recall 1960s French pop chanteuses and more recent vocalists like Nina Persson of the Cardigans and Sarah Cracknell of Saint Etienne, not to mention twee-pop groups such as Heavenly, Talulah Gosh, and the Shop Assistants. The band has always brought a strong `60s vibe to their records, with jaunty tempos, summery melodies and brooding bass lines, and their album of covers, By-the-Numbers, laid out many musical influences. Still, their earlier cover of John Barry's "You Only Live Twice" and a buzzing organ arrangement of Richard Rodgers' "Slaughter on 10th Avenue" won't fully prepare you for this full-blown foray into vintage film score sounds.
"No One Said This Would Be Easy" opens the album with orchestral strings, tympani and castanets that suggest James Bond narrowly escaping the clutches of a Russian temptress. The bass and drums underlying the arrangement soften as Yehezkely enters, but the song's forward momentum doesn't lose a step, and the bridge add flashes of horns and glockenspiel to the drama. The effect amplifies the power of Yehezkely's singing without having to amplify her volume or alter her breezy charms. It's quite the brilliant trick to so fruitfully combine her girlish vocals with scored rock backings. Fans of British production music collections such as The Sound Gallery and The Easy Project will recognize the swinging London and international loungecore vibe.
The group's indie pop peeks through the grander productions in washes of synthesizers and vocal processing, but the songs are carried by the cinematic bombast surrounding Yahezkely's dream-cool delivery. The lyrics loom enigmatically, clearing for moments of romantic reverie and painful separation, and there's a terrific send-up (or perhaps jealous accounting) of "The Jetsetter." The music's enchantment is in its melodies and the interplay between Yehezkely's fetching vocals and the thickly crafted arrangements. This is a sophisticated and charming album whose underlying pop craft casts a big shadow with its soundtrack dynamics. 4-1/2 stars, if allowed fractional ratings. 4-1/2 stars, if allowed fractional ratings. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]"
More Sophisticated and Just as Good as the First Album
J. Hollister | CO | 09/03/2009
(5 out of 5 stars)
"To start, I love this album. The Postmarks first album was excellent; I was slightly disappointed with the Postmarks By-the-Numbers album which was a compilation of covers. I am happy to report that Memoirs at the End of the World actually improves on the self titled album. The tracks are slightly more uptempo and showcase Tim's hypnotizing vocals (yes Tim is the name of the female singer). The use of instruments is more complex in this release with a more full sound all around. The first two tracks (My Lucky Charm and No One Said This Would Be Easy) were some of my favorites. I'd highly recommend this album."
Gainsbourg meets Belle & Sebastian : An Unknown Epic
Cabir Davis | 01/13/2010
(4 out of 5 stars)
"The Postmarks (from Pompano Beach, FL, no less) garnered much critical acclaim for their 2007 eponymous release, but its on this new album that their vision finally gets to result in some truly groundbreaking twee songs. While twee as a genre is misunderstood, and worse, derided, it is often a genre that spawns immeasurable riches if done correctly (for example, "Amorino" by Isobel Campbell from 2003).
On that front, The Postmarks deliver on almost every conceivable point - be it the French film noir mood that permeates the entire recording, the quaint British, almost Beatlesesque flourishes every now and then, and a hushed Charlotte Gainsbourg-inspired vocal from lead singer Tim (who is ironically a woman). None of these are new themes, and have been flogged to death by everyone by April March ("Chrominance Decoder"), Paris Combo ("Motifs"), and even Charlotte herself on "5:55". But as any devout listener of indie music would know, there are a few bands that can take a beaten genre and reinvigorate it, and The Postmarks have done exactly that.
The 1960s noir affects all these tracks in equal measure, especially on the album opener that has many listeners remembering Melville's "Le Samourai" (and who could blame them?). Like Ivy, or to an extent Brookville, this has often been described as a perfect 'wine and cheese' album, but this listener cannot quite relate to that. If anything, this requires a more serious setting. In fact, it reminds me almost exactly of Dusty Trails and their only album from 2000 (they were a breakaway faction of Luscious Jackson, another underrated group). That was perhaps the last CD that caught my attention (as pertains to the genre), and only "Klassics with a K" by Kostars (a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination), Isobel Campbell, and this CD have endeared themselves to me since then. And when I say Isobel, I mean her solo work, not those musical experiments with Mark Lanegan.
The centerpiece of this gem is "Thorn in your side", which the producers probably found so appealing as to give it a reprise. The first half of the album is sprightlier, if anything, and it mellows down towards the final three, especially on "Theme from Memoirs". If this is a concept album, perhaps the concept was to remind and immerse one in a dark brooding Alain Delon thriller, or perhaps this could also be a counterpart to those wonderfully ambiguous Antonioni films ("l'eclisse" in specific). But to the casual listener, this is an album where every track harkens back to a time when music was supposed to be based upon creativity and ambience, and where melodies and vocals took centerstage as opposed to auto-tune and vocoder.
Four Stars. Clearly setting the benchmark for the twee set in general, and certainly better than Ivy's last one, if comparisons needs to be made. Think of this as a female-fronted counterpart to Andy Chase's Brookville, and you'd be spot on. Epic."
Track Listings (13) - Disc #1